


Angst one-shots

by Wayward_Worms



Series: Angst brainworms [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akiras used in Chapter 1, Angst, Character Study-ish, Depression, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, One Shot Collection, One-Sided Attraction, P5R Bad End, Rens used in Chapter 2, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Crush, third semester spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Worms/pseuds/Wayward_Worms
Summary: Just a compilation of angsty one-shots that I either haven’t been able to finish or, unedited one shots I never got around to completing/lost interest in finishing.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Angst brainworms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883593
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely indulgent & not really angsty. I had attempted a gut punch sad sort of fanfic, but when I was writing this, I was PMS-ing hella hard, so when I’m in that mindset, everything is painful.  
> Rereading it now, it not really angsty, just more of a deep dive into a “what if” scenario with the new bad end in P5R when you don’t make the deadline. I’ll clean up any mistakes in the text at a later date. For now, here’s this QwQ.
> 
> Chapter 1: alternate third sem bad end  
> Chapter 2: One-sided Pegoryu

In truth, Akira had wished in some fucked up way that Maruki would’ve just killed him, or at least let him sleep for the rest of his miserable life. 

Instead, after failing to clear His palace, Maruki removed him from his confidants collective memory. 

Akira could remember the looks Sojiro, Futaba, Wakaba and Morgana had given him when he had descended the stairs February 3rd. It had been around one in the afternoon when he came downstairs, awoken by the loud nature of the newfound family. 

A look of fear spread through each and everyone of them as the noise died down and all attention had been focused towards him. 

He had shot them all a sympathetic smile, apologizing for sleeping in, only for the family to erupt in varying amounts of panic. 

It hadn’t even been an hour and he’d been thrown out onto the streets with a “if you trespass again, I won’t hesitate to call the cops.” 

Akira shuttered at the thought, turning over. 

After that, he had tried to contact each and everyone of his friends, only to be met with either a block, “wrong number” or “who is this?”

Akira turned again, eyes locking onto the few gifts he’d managed to save from Sojiros freak out and throwing all of Akiras belongings out onto the street with him, the moonlight dancing through his bedroom blinds across the souvenirs from his lost friends. 

Akira could feel the heavy weight of tears drop onto his pillow.   
  
He was shocked when he returned to Inaba, eyes sunken in from pure exhaustion from the previous twenty four hours. His parents had given him a cold look, telling him they had planned to pick him up from the court house later.   
Oh. Of course. Maruki had to fix his year long gap from being home. Of course being in Juvenile detention would be the best bullshit example.   
Akira was fairly sure Juvenile detention sentences didn’t last a year, but he wasn’t going to argue logistics.   
He had given his parents a sorrowful nod, heading up the stairs to his dust ridden room.   
  


Which brought him back to the present. 

The pillow below his head was stained with his tears and he sobbed pitifully. 

Everything he’d done had been for nothing.

Instinctively, Akira reached for his phone, the time reading ‘4:07 AM’ in bright white letters, no messages from any of his former friends, let alone confidants. 

Setting his phone back down, Akira sat up, forcing himself to stifle any furthering sobs. 

What was the point of crying anyways. It had been his fault in the end, spending the little time he had with his friends the past few weeks instead of focusing more intently on Marukis palace. Though he had never anticipated this sort of reaction from Maruki if they had failed. 

He couldn’t help the loud sob that erupted, canting his legs up so he could bury his face into his tented comforter to muffle his sob. 

In the end it _was his fault_.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. 

Akira let himself sob and wallow in himself, before dragging himself out of bed, feeling as though hours had pushed by. In reality, twenty or so minutes had truly slipped between his shaking form. 

On shaky legs, Akira found himself in his dusty bathroom, giving a weak cry at the emptied medicine cabinet he’d been sure was stocked when he’d left last year. 

Not even his feeble suicide attempt was going to happen. 

Returning back to his bed, he slumped into the old mattress, letting it swallow him whole. 

What was the point? 

_What was the point?_

Akira no longer had a reason left to live. 

All former bonds had been broken. Not even his parents wanted him around anymore. 

He had no reason to be here, and yet he couldn’t do a single thing, in this moment, to snuff his own light out. 

All he could do was stare at an empty ceiling devoid of anything besides the moon's sweet light, mocking him in a sense, and let himself fall further into his old mattress. 

_‘It’s only a matter of time before my body just shuts down and gives into the inevitable’_

The bitterness lacking heavily from his thoughts, hands scrubbing painfully over his face to hide his sadness from no one other than himself. 

‘ _It would’ve been more humane for Maruki to just come by and kill me himself.’_

He didn’t understand anything. Maruki had told him _explicitly_ that he just wanted everyone to live their best lives, and yet here he was, living his absolute worst, spending the last few days in his room sulking with his parents paying little to no mind to him, only shouldering cold looks when Akira would emerge from his room. 

He shuttered at a twinge of sadness building in his gut as more tears fell. 

Everything hurt, and he knew it would continue to hurt. And yet there wasn’t a thing he could do. 

  
  



	2. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another half assed fic? Hell yah.  
> Unbetad & very messy. I’ve been craving unrequited love fics between Ryuji/Akiren, but like no ones supplying them, so I gotta do everything myself.  
> Not sure if I’ll edit it.

* * *

Ren knew that he was, in a sense, playing with fire. 

Really, his feelings. 

But he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t help the way his heart would skip a beat each and every time he’d hang out with Ryuji. Heart constricting whenever the blonde would laugh or smile, always flustering Ren when he would nudge the other, or say something stupid. 

He was only hurting himself with his pining. He’d seen how Ryuji had looked at Makoto and how he would gush about her whenever they’d hang out, a pang of sadness whenever Ryuji would blush after pouring his heart out for the student council president. 

But Ren took his chances. He knew it was destined to fail, but maybe it would be different from what he kept telling himself.

Ren had asked Ryuji to hang out with him at the theme park, the blonde obviously embarrassed with the amount of _‘you do know this is a date spot, right?’_

The ravenette just laughed it off, explaining there was nothing weird about two guys spending time at the amusement park.

Except it was _weird._

What he was doing was wrong. But he couldn’t help it. His heart would skip a beat everytime Ryuji managed to win at those obviously rigged carnival games, the blonde smiling so brightly as he showed off his prizes. 

Ren couldn’t help blushing when Ryuji would give him said prizes, feeling as though he was the love interest in those cheesy rom-coms, begging his boyfriend to win prizes for him. 

But he hadn’t asked Ryuji to win shit for him. The prizes weren’t gifts out of love, but out of friendship.

Still, Ren didn’t let down, squeezing the plethora of stuffed animals, ranging in size, pleading that his confession would win the blonde over. 

  
  


________________

  
  


It was nearing 10 PM when the two decided it was time to head back, Ren's heart beating much faster than it should, pink tinging his cheeks as he gripped the bag filled with prizes. 

It was now or never.

Stopping right outside the park gate, Ren cleared his throat, stock still sans his hands, fingers fidgeting from all his nervous energy.

“Can I.. can I tell you something, Ryuji?” 

The blonde stopped, turning. 

“Always.”

Another skipped beat. 

“I… I love you… romantically.” 

The pause this time was much longer, sweating hands interlocked, cheeks much redder. 

“I? What??” 

Ren felt as though he would combust. 

“I said I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you.. ever since you awoke to your persona. Fighting with you felt so intimate and…” he let his voice drop off, a faint smile painting his features, naivety clouding his vision.

“And I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t help the way my heart would skip a beat whenever you’d laugh, or ask me to hang out, or…” Ren schools his head, smile beginning to fade. 

“Or…” his heart was pacing now, face flushed as he studied the ground beneath him. 

Shaking his head, Ren met ryujis lost gaze, uncomfort very aware on the blondes features. 

“Oh.. I,, I’m sorry man. I uh,,” the blonde scratched his neck, obviously embarrassed.

“I, ah, don’t swing that way.. I do appreciate your… confession though.” Ryuji laughed a bit, metaphorical knife cutting deeper into the ravenettes gut. 

Masked hurt, Ren gave a weak smile, nodding.

“I understand. I should probably get going then..”

“If it counts for anything, I had fun today.” 

Ren gave a feeble nod, emotions beginning to overwhelm him. He needed to leave before he broke down. 

Ryuji offered one last soft smile, before jogging off towards the station, leaving Ren to watch awkwardly.

He knew that this would happen, and yet it still hurt. 

Doubling over, Ren gasped out a weak sob, bag dropping, wrapping his arms around his wobbling knees. 

Rejection stung more than he ever imagined it would, tears streaming freely as he choked on his own sobs. 

He was so _fucking_ pathetic. 


	3. Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t found any time/motivation to continue this fic. Tbh, I’ve fallen head over heals for the HC that after Akira sacrificed Arsene, he just sorta shut down because he no longer had his original persona like everyone else had, esp knowing that Personas are a direct connection to the persons own rebellious personality.  
> I hope that makes sense QwQ.

Personas were something special, the mirror of the user's heart. 

This, however, did not apply to Akira Kurusu. Yes, he had his persona,  _ Arsene,  _ but was he really his? Was he the true Arsene he’d awakened to all those months ago. 

Slumping against the bathroom door, Akira shook, coming down from a breakdown. Sure, he was a wildcard, but… it hurt so much. It ached harboring so many personas that weren’t his own. 

They weren’t even mirrors of his own heart, merely game that he collected. 

Scratching his nails against the boards, he screamed, throat burning just within the first few seconds. He had no  _ true _ personality, nothing more than a broken mirror that reflected what others wished for him to be. 

Nothing more than a blank slate for his friends to write what they want. 

He wasn’t even his own person by this point. 

Tears, pattering down his face, Akira whined loudly, thumping the back of his head against the door. Was he really even friends with anyone then?  _ ‘Probably not’ _ a voice replied, echoing in the back of his mind. Right. Of course.. 

He was the therapist friend. The mom friend. The one anyone and everyone could rely on within a drop of a hat. 

And he gave in, molding himself to fit his friends ideals of the perfect friend, the perfect lover, the perfect person. 

Letting out another whine, Akira sobbed. 

He wanted to be someone. 

The others, they all had their personas. Their true personas. Their true rebellion. Akira had nothing to show for that, other than what felt like a copy of Arsene. 

He was nothing. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Went ahead and fixed a few things up & added to the story.


End file.
